9 | Touch Me

"Oh, please, say to me, you'll let me be your man. And please, say to me, you'll let me hold your hand. You'll let me hold your hand. I want to hold your hand."

~ The Beatles, I Want to Hold Your Hand

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The last two weeks have been fairly good. Cillian and Sophie stuck to a routine and stayed in the house. She helped him through nightmares freak out free, and she's been teaching him to the best of her abilities on how to behave out in society without actually taking him out into society just yet. He's been doing great with eye contact and speaking up a tad more. In fact, he probably looks at her a little too much.

The only thing they haven't worked a ton on was physical touch. That was mainly Sophie's fault. He would never force himself on her so she had to be the one to go to him. There were small moments, such as her lightly touching his shoulder when she squeezed past him or her fingers grazing his when she handed him something. Other than that, there hasn't been much more work done.

Cillian knew this was a problem. No, not because he's not used to a kind touch, but because it was bad for the bond. By refusing to touch each other and Sophie subconsciously rejecting and ignoring the bond, the bond would take matters into its own hands, more or less.

Today, Sophie woke up sick. It was odd because she hadn't really left the house so it's not like she could have caught a bug from anywhere. Unbeknownst to her, it was that little detail she skimmed over in the booklet on lycanthrope.

Mates being separated makes them sick because mates are supposed to be together forever in an unbreakable bond. Not only in each other's presence, but together together. When intimacy of all kinds was lacking, it only made the pull stronger. Intimacy meant a lot of things; physical touch, emotional intimacy, and mental.

She shrugged it off for now, hoping it would pass. However, when she spotted Cillian with a red nose and puffy eyes by the back door, she knew this was no normal sickness.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and grumbled out, "You wanna tell me why we're sick right now?"

His gaze didn't leave the window, staring out into the woods. Through a stuffy nose, he replied, "acceptance."

"You wanna-" she paused, a sneeze escaping her before she could finish her sentence. She sighed, as if the sneeze took all the wind out of her, and continued. "You wanna elaborate on that?"

Briefly, his gaze faltered before he focused outside again. "Acceptance of the bond. It's trying to force us closer together."

"In what way?"

He shrugged, not wanting to make her uncomfortable by his answer. Instead, he focused on scanning the yard, antsy.

"What are you looking at?"

"Someone's here." He casually replied.

She rose a brow and brushed past him to look outside the window. She had a small yard, the rest of her property was surrounded by trees. To her, nothing was there. She couldn't see or hear a single person.

A low growl rumbled in his chest, making Sophie look over her shoulder at him. "I don't see anyone."

For the first time, he touched her first. Ever so gently, he guided her away from the window with a giant hand splayed on her lower back. "Not safe." He grumbled.

"What do you mean?"

His nose scrunched slightly, displeased with whatever it was picking up on.

"Do you... do you smell someone?"

He locked the door, answering her question.

"Who is it?" She asked, curious if his abilities allowed him to dictate something like that.

"I don't know." He huffed as he peeked out the blinds.

"Is it General-"

"No." He cut her off before he could finish the evil man's name.

"Maybe it's someone I know. Let me see." She said and shuffled to a bigger window.

He was quick to block her from doing so, using his own body to block the window. "It's not."

With hands on her hips, she defiantly quizzed him, "how do you know?"

"It's not human."

Oh... Her eyes widened. Oh. "Excuse me?"

"Their scent is fading. They're leaving."

"Who is they?"

"I..." Finally, he looked at her. "I think they're like me."

She blinked. "You mean a lycanthrope? I thought you guys were nearly extinct."

With a sigh, he admitted, "so did I."

Cillian was led to believe lycanthrope were all extinct. At the very least, his pack was eliminated. General Hoppers made sure of that and never bluffed- ever. Even still, it was a possibility there were a few in hiding, scattered across the world.

She sighed and clasped her hands together. "Welp, sounds like a problem for a different day." She decided, simply too sick to dwell on that for now. "C'mon, let's figure out how to feel better."

•••

"Just touch me. Anywhere is fine."

Cillian sat there, secretly eager on the inside, but horrified on the outside. He wanted nothing more then to follow Sophie's command, but was extremely hesitant, as he has never done something like this before. He wasn't one to disobey orders, yet he didn't want to hurt her in anyway on accident.

Oh, in case you're confused, Sophie is working on desensitizing Cillian to touch. He said it should also help their fevers go away.

"Okay, wait... that came out wrong. Don't touch me anywhere anywhere, but like, my arm or leg or something." Sophie rambled, a tad flustered on how it came out. "Or would you prefer I touch you first? Wait-"

Yeah, this was a mess.

She facepalmed and let out a groan. "Forget I said all that." She muttered under her breath. "You were okay when I touched your hand, right?"

He nodded, but eyed her, skeptically. It wasn't that he didn't want her to touch him and visa versa. It was just the fact he hadn't known a kind touch in God knows how long. On the inside, his body and heart yearned for her touch. It was his brain that screamed at him that touch wasn't safe. Touch only brought pain. Even his own touch brought pain to others. That's what his hands were trained to do- to inflict pain. To maim, tear, and rip apart human flesh. Yet he'd never do that to Sophie.

He wanted to learn how to touch her and where. He wanted to be the one that made her smile the most. He wanted her mind. Her strength. Wanted to be worth her time. He wanted to feel her heart racing and know it's racing because of him. He just wanted her. Whatever she was willing.

"How about we hold hands?" She suggested, softly, and offered her hand to him.

Cautiously, he placed his hand in hers until it engulfed hers completely, their fingers woven together perfectly and gently.

He stiffened as her thumb moved across his knuckles. His life was always frantic- being yelled orders at, people grabbing at him, shoving him, torturing him, beating him, all horrible, terrible things. Sophie's touch was slow and gentle as she flipped over his hand that completely engulfed her own. She touched him as if he was a canvas and she was admiring the art, like she forgot he could feel her touch and it was a painting she was tracing, not his scarred hand.

He watched her intently, admiring the few stray pieces of hair that fell out of her messy bun and the way her bottom lip was trapped between her teeth as she concentrated. She was wearing one of his hoodies she bought for him... correction- she was swimming in one of his hoodies. Her excuse was she hadn't gotten around to doing her laundry yet. It was far too big for her, but he rather liked the way it looked on her.

"Is this okay?" She asked him.

"It's okay." He responded a little too quickly. It was more than okay. He was thrilled that he was actually enjoying her touch. He was still cautious, but the bond was stronger than his fear.

"Good." She said, softly. "We should probably get used to more coupley things like... umm, are you comfortable putting your arm around me?"

He looped his arm around her until it was carefully resting over her shoulders. There was still a gap between them so she asked, "can I lean on you?"

He hadn't mind his arms and hand being touched this far, but having his midsection touched was different. That was one of the places he was taught to protect the most, having it be where all your vital organs are.

She noticed his hesitation and told him, "we don't have to unless you're comfortable. Or you could be the one to scoot closer to me."

He seemed to like that idea a little more, having more control over the situation that way. Little by little, he scooted closer to her. He surprised her by lightly tugging her closer so her side was pressed against his own.

Subconsciously, she ran a thumb over his knuckles again. She peeked up to look at him and asked, "this still okay?"

He released a breath he didn't know he was holding and nodded. He didn't- couldn't respond right away, the feeling of her soft finger tips on his skin made his brain go fuzzy and his stomach flutter. "It's okay." He admitted, his breath hitting the top of her head.

She grinned at him and hovered her free hand over his leg. "Can I..." she drawled.

At his okay, she rested her hand on his thigh. Once again, she was going to ask if this was okay, but before she could, he answered her unasked question in a different way. With his own free hand, he placed it over hers.

Heat rose to her cheeks at the small action. "Good job." She practically squeaked out. She cleared her throat and asked, "you still doing okay?"

"I'm okay." He told her, softly. Though she was desperately avoiding eye contact with him, he waited to say what he wanted to say until he caught her gaze. "Thank you, Sophie."

She smiled softly in return. "It's no problem."

His gaze lingered longer than usual, making her get all flustered again. Finally, he asked her, "why do your cheeks do that?" He wondered and caught her off guard by lightly poking her reddening cheek. He noticed her blush every time she had one. He even put the pieces together it was because of him too.

"Don't worry about it." She coughed, awkwardly, and scooted away from him. "You did good with all that." She changed the subject by praising him.

He wasn't sure how to respond, so he just nodded in thanks.

"There's probably one more thing you should get used to." She told him and stood to her feet. As she did, she offered a hand out to him to help him off the couch- as if she could actually pull him up. He appreciated the gesture nonetheless and took her hand as he stood.

For a moment, it seemed she forgot how tall he was as he stood to his full height. She backed away so he wasn't looming over her so much. "My family are all huggers and we're going to see them at Christmas if you're ready." She explained with a wince. "Are you okay if I..." she trailed off, arms stretched out.

He answered her by opening his own arms, but was too nervous to take the first step. She took that was a sign to close the gap herself. With loose arms, she wrapped her small arms around his torso, her head resting against his firm chest. His strong arms wrapped around her middle in return, hesitant, but ready.

She felt him tense, unsure by the whole situation. Before he could pull away, she remained where she was and ensured him. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

That, he knew. He obviously knew she couldn't physically. Despite his brain screaming at him that all human touch was bad, his heart and bond with her were louder. He wasn't scared anymore by her touch, but how she could hurt him in an entirely different way.

He had her all to himself for six months. After that, he wasn't sure what General Hoppers had planned for them. Undoubtedly, they'd remain together, but in what way? He wasn't sure. Nevertheless, he had to use these six months wisely. To not only gain her trust, but love.

In that moment, his arms squeezed a fraction tighter and she breathed more slowly. He had never been hugged like this before. There was something so warm, something that felt right. Even Sophie let her body melt as his muscles became loose. He felt her body press in, soft and warm.

The moment was nearly ruined as he felt her flinch and loosen her grip ever so slightly. She froze, too scared to pull away or make any quick movements. "Do you want me to let go?" She whispered, terror clear in her voice.

It was in that moment he realized what was wrong. She thought he was growling. It seemed like she pieced together at the same time as him that that wasn't the case.

"Wait, are you... purring?"

He wasn't purring per sé. When lycanthrope felt any strong positive emotion, whether it be joy, love, contentment, etc... their chest would rumble and make a purring like sound.

For once, he was the flustered one. "Sorry, I didn't mean-"

She couldn't help but laugh and hugged him again.

•••

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Oh dang, super early update bc we met our goal super fast! I gotta make it a little tougher on y'all now lol! For another early update, 10 comments from 10 different people and I'll post the next chapter asap! 💛

Question of the chapter: I don't really have a question for this one, but I just wanted to say I've been editing and adding some future chapters, and I'm sooo excited for y'all to read it!! I've got just over 20 chapters written rn and my goal is at least 30 or so. I don't know about y'all, but I don't love when a book seems never ending with 70+ chapters lol. Can't wait for y'all to read what's coming soon!!

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